“An herbal… Some alchemistic nonsense… Some philosophical nonsense… Stories about Tilean nobility? That could give us a good laugh some time… Nothing of much worth, it seems.”

"To bad it's all in human gibberish then." Searinox replied to Incaneth as he looked in the pouch he picked up.'Some coins, some empty vials and... this' He pulled out a single vial filled with a strangely coloured liquid. Ever curious he opened it and took a whiff. He flinched slightly as he put the cork back on 'potent smell... must be some kind of tincture...' he put it in a pouch on one of his belts. 'Who knows, might come in handy.'

"Beware, I'm going to move that wardrobe, something might be hidden below." He heard the pilot from the other room and decided to check it out. 'something hidden? Wonder if we'll find something useful still then.'

"Need any help?" he said as he moved closer to the two magic users.

finding a strange liquid, then goes to see if Caroac and Ladry need any help.

The wardrobe was by no means lightweight but with the combined effort of Caraoc, Ladry and Iscar the elves managed to move it rather easily. The other raiders could only observe as there was not enough room for them to help.

At first, nothing interesting appeared. But Caraoc knelt down and tapped on the wood and indeed, the sound might have been somewhat hollow. Soon after he was able to put one plank to the side and revealed a shallow hiding place. Lying on the ground was a bundle of strong linen cloth, bound by a thin rope. Inside the wrapping, carefully protected from moisture, another book was being kept, a heavy, thick treatise in a dark brown jacket of best leather, with pages just slightly yellowed from the passage of time. On the cover, a Tal-Eltharin inscription of intricate golden letters was proclaiming proudly:

On the boundary between life and death

There was no doubt it was this work the glow of both ancient patience and blazing selfishness was stemming from.

Behind the wardrobe, the wall was intact. Nothing could be hidden there.Below the wardrobe, the planks were in place. Nothing was to be found there. Or wasn't it?Iscar had already turned away, hoping for a better booty anywhere else, but Ladry could feel the same attraction as Caraoc.The pilot kneeled and knocked the floor. Bingo! The sound was revealing.Finding the small hole allowing to lift the plank took no time. While he operated, the rest of the gang pushed the wardrobe further away, so that all those who wished could look what was going on.

When Caraoc brought up carefully the bundle of strong linen cloth bound by a thin rope, not even a breath could be heard.He palped the object, eyes half closed. Yes, the faint magical aura was definitively coming from there.With all eyes staring at him in agonizing curiosity, the pilot unwrapped the package. Inside the wrapping, carefully protected from moisture, another book was being kept.

This was a heavy, thick treatise in a dark brown jacket of best leather. The mage observed it in the dim light. On the cover was engraved an inscription of intricate golden letters. Caraoc oriented the book to reflect the torch light.His eyes widen open with surprise, he announced:"The... if that's not Tal-Eltharin, Lileath is no longer a virgin."The Astromancer deciphered the letters, and half smiled."Huh! It reads: On the Boundary between Life and Death!"

He stood up and rose the ancient tome above his head."For us corsairs who live apart of the Living and apart of the Dead, this must be a knowledge of high signifiance!"He closed his eyes and added: "This inspires me. The Book talks to me. Listen!"The scald took his breath and declamed:"I feel the wind against my face, I hear their call inside my head, but no one can listen..."It was a song of distant land, of flying and climbing skies and riding stars, a song of strength, heroes and conquer,a tale of destin change.

The audience did not dare interrupting the seer during what could only be an inspired prediction.The last verses were sung with a mad sight in the scald's eyes."When you finally decide to came through, there will be a better ending for you, in this magic book".

The Astromancer stopped abruptly with a triumphing smile, and declared:"I like that book. I'm going to read it as soon as there is some light."

Taking the book. Will open it only when there is enough light to read it.Trying to best guess what will be the fate of whoever opens it and read.

OOC: usually, when Caraoc sings, that's a good opportunity to capture winds of Azyr.During the song, the Mage communes with the Book. Ideally, the words of the song should not be too far from what will happen (see lyrics).

With their combined effort, the wardrobe was soon moved and Caraoc unveiled a thick bundle of cloth. When he unfolded the cloth, a tome! "On the boundary between life and death..." Ladry whispered, repeating what Caraoc read aloud from the books cover. Could this be a tome on death magic?

As Caraoc turned the book in his hands and messed his rhymes, Ladry looked up slightly alarmed; what if the villagers would hear a foreign tongue clearly in the night? She did not, however, interrupt him; if the villagers had heard, it was too late now, and if they hadnt... Well. As his song came to an end, she flashed him a grin. "Nothing like a song to lift ones spirit during a stealthy dawn attack" she remarked, and winked. "Good find! With this item secured, shall we proceed to the village? No reason to forego a collection of slaves and plunder..."

Listening to Caraocs song, teasing him about the timing, and suggesting the party moves along toward the village.

'On the Boundary between Life and Death?' Searinox, with no affinity to magic, didn't feel anything emitting from the book so he just assumed that the two magicians were right about the magical item. As Caroac started to sing Searinox rolled his eyes 'Here he goes again with his singing. Still, could be worse I guess.' he then walked towards the door they came in from. "Try not to summon any Daemons Caroac." he said with a faint smile.

Opening up the door ever so slightly, just enough for Searinox to peer through, he checked for the rising sun. He then closed the it again and walked back to the others."I'll have to agree with Ladry, it can never be long before the sun starts to rise, and the farmers might even start work before that." He then looked at Incareth, then Caroac. "So what do we do with the book for now while we sack the village?"

Showing little to no interest in the bookthrowing a small jest at Caroacagreeing with Ladry to move alongasking what happens with the book during the raid.

Caraoc stood there in the middle of a country house, his hand placed on the strange book he had just found, and raised his voice in a hymn from distant lands. The corsairs around seemed displeased at first, Incaneth belittling the value of this Tal-Eltharin work in a sour remark, Iscar raising his eyebrows in a mixture of amusement and disdain; but soon they calmed down and listened carefully. Perhaps there was something captivating in the foreign rhythm, or maybe Caraoc himself was now enforcing respect. His voice grew fuller and richer than usual and seemed to bear the sound of otherworldly mysteries; his eyes were shut and blinking rapidly; in the moonlight he was more akin to a wise sage than an easy-going corsair.

***

In a windy afternoon on a sea shore, Caraoc finally finished reading the book. The Hungry Gaze was long forgotten; he only had a small satchel but knew the most valuable bounty had been claimed by him.

He stood up and walked along the shore. In a near bay he found a small ship lying at anchor; the crew was suffering with scurvy and barely possessed the strength to notice him. He wielded the power to preserve them, though, and soon they were sailing again, the scald amongst them.

He was a captain with crew devoted to him beyond death. Yet again his corsairs assaulted an unsuspecting merchant ship and hacked everything in their path while he was giving them strength from behind; and after the fight even more riches came to him and even more combatants were standing to his command. He was born to create and conquer and here he had finally found his path.

He was rich, immensely rich and had filled his estate with wine, songs and dancers. They all lived in debauchery, discarding their past lives, and when they started to fade away he preserved them all and so the songs and dances continued for decades.

But then the revelry grew repetitive and stories uninventive and the corsair left his estate again. He gathered an army huger than ever seen before, conquered seas and mists, breached through gates, and soon he stood on a great pyramid and fierce warriors with phoenix-shaped helmets bowed before him with utmost respect and fear. All around, fire consumed houses and fields and the blazing was so intense no star was to see and even the moon seemed pale and unreachably distant.

***

In a windy afternoon on a sea shore, Searinox closed the book. He only understood small portions of it but the lady that was finally coming to him, the one clad in grey robes with an amulet in the shape of a bird, would hopefully have more success. The Hungry Gaze was long forgotten; he only had a small satchel but knew the most valuable bounty had been claimed by him.

Soon after, strange stories began to go around. They were saying the two elves had eyes that saw everything and never slept; that they could be at many places at once; that they were able to move without making a sound. They were answering all questions only with a knowing smile, keeping their secrets in mists and shadows.

***

Only a brief moment had passed but Caraoc started to look tired. His face got so pale it could hardly be a deceptive play of moonlight; several drops of sweat appeared on his cheeks and with an agonizing slowness were descending to the chin; his eyes were still firmly shut and blinking quickly. The song, though, was continuing as powerfully as in the beginning. Some elves in the room were looking around in worry and confusion, but no sound disturbed the singing for long.

***

In a windy afternoon on a sea shore, Analya finally finished reading the book. She did not understand much but despite that thoughts were circling through her head. There was a handsome fair-haired man lying in a bed of spikes; several sheets of paper passed over under the cover of darkness; a knight in the midst of battle, with a great sword in hand and a portrayal of a tower surrounded by flames on his shield; an empty coastal city and sails on the horizon; a bald man with a large hammer guarding a cathedral; the noble girl herself locked in combat with a gracious elf clothed in white; and all around the place, spills of blood, scattered pieces of gold and clouds of ash.

***

In a windy afternoon, Kireth Snakeskin finally found a buyer. He had no idea what was in the book and he did not care. The few coins he received could hardly change his fate but they still turned the raid into a much bigger success.

***

In a windy afternoon on a sea shore, Ladry finally finished reading the book. The Hungry Gaze was long forgotten; she only had a small satchel but kept the most valuable thing inside.

Now, there was fire and nothing else, inside her, around her. All her past was burned to ashes, her former crew, the Hungry Gaze, the alchemist, all lost in flames. No one had an idea she was alive, no one even knew her name anymore. She was freed, purified, born anew. The only thing that remained was revenge, glaring brighter than ever before.

Blazing flames and rotting flesh, a glorious path of destruction. Clothes burning on elite assassins, decaying joints of determined commanders, dozens of soldiers crushed by her might. And the most painful deaths for the leaders. Like a demon of revenge, like the incorporation of fury she finally grasped the supreme commander with her magic, the fool who had tried to kill her, the man who had wronged her the most. She let slow but intense fire burn his legs and worms consume his upper body. The man screamed out and cried for a long, long time while fire was raging all around. The mage was laughing, blazing with hate and power and joy, loudly, unceasingly laughing.

***

In a windy afternoon, Dolan looked at the book. What by Khaine was he supposed to do with it? Then the innkeeper offered him free drinks for the whole evening in exchange. The muscular elf smiled broadly, passed over the old work and reached for the first of his many, many cups today.

***

Finally, Caraoc opened his eyes. It took a while to return back to reality, to the small alchemist's house, to the soft and silver moonlight, to the elves that were giving him strange looks. He was tired and slightly dazed but feeling very energized at the same time. For a few moment, silence ruled among the elves; then Ladry and Searinox urged the group to proceed.

“Perfect thinking, we move on,” concurred Incaneth. He then gave Caraoc a slightly perplexed look. “Unless this inspiration brought something new than a nice song that our bard would like to share with us?”

Searinox and Ladry: Caraoc sings and looks strangely, otherwise nothing is apparent. Caraoc: What you saw are possible outcomes, not a firmly set future. The book might be interfering slightly with its own power. At any rate, reading alone should be safe - the question is what is the reader going to do with his newly acquired knowledge. Unless Caraoc wants to discuss something, the group will go out. Then the assault will finally begin.

[OOC: Apologies if I have depicted your characters in a wrong way - but you know, divination is never perfectly acquire and the rest is manipulated by the book.

OOC2: I have edited this post. In the original version, there was Paithan mentioned in the last vision; this was a confusion on my part. Now, Dolan is there, as Dolan is the local drunk.]

His brains shaken by the many visions melting and fading away, the Astromancer had to lean breathless against the nearest wall.He replied to Incareth with a broken voice, that the few Elves in the room could hear."I had a vision. In this book, I'll find out why the margrave who possessed it became heretic."Caraoc's only desire was to get some still time to study that fascinating book of such appealing prophecies."I saw each of you in that vision, but faintly. It was too blurry to understand, but it was positive."

Caraoc wrapped back the book in its strong linen cloth, while his companions stared at him in anguish for more.He turned towards the First Officer, opening wide dark eyes, with a sad face and a screechy voice."Except you, Incareth Aez. I did not see you in my vision of the future."The sailor's profession exposed him to all kind of uncertainties. Pessimistic predictions was something nobody wanted to hear.After hearing that, none would dare to breach the silence. Caraoc knew that he had to put the group back into motion.

"But Analya has waited for us long enough. Let's go and report that we got all the Alchemist's stuff, and more importantly, that neither the Alchemist nor the Margrave were there."The sooner out, the better. Reminding the corsairs to focus on the coming fight, that was the best to do.

The pilot picked up a few bottles and flagons left over, plus a couple of drying plants, wrapped them inside a piece of linen, nor forgetting the cloth decorated with golden thread.Then he went outside, to find out that the day was very soon to come.

The scald awoke from his vision and took a while to regain his composure. He assured the others that what he saw was positive but then, with a sad look on the first officer, he added the sinister words:

“Except you, Incareth Aez. I did not see you in my vision of the future.“

Incaneth was so shaken he almost forgot to breathe; on his face, a mix of surprise, disbelief and worry appeared. It seemed he wanted to say something, ask for details or declare it nonsense but he changed his mind before making a sound. The two other corsairs seemed to go through the same emotions, just toned down a bit; they were not moving, either.

Then Caraoc urged others to move and they gladly followed, including the first officer himself. Full of thoughts about the prophecy, the corsairs let the book in the bard's hands.

***

Outside the elves were already getting impatient. They were still maintaining their discipline, alertly looking around and avoiding unnecessary noise, but signs of unrest were clear on their behaviour. When the scouting group left the house, almost all eyes were directed to them.

“We have it,” said Incaneth simply in a hollow voice. “Proceed,” he nodded to Analya. He then walked past the waiting host and took a long, expressionless look at the forest edge nearby.

The noble girl raised eyebrows but did not answer. Instead, she turned right to the assembled corsairs and mercenaries.

“Good, we are ready to go,” she said. “Group one will breach into houses, capture slaves and take valuables. Group two will stay in reserve and guard the captives. Try to be as silent as possible. Avoid big fires and everything that might draw attention from afar. Be alert, there might be some meaningful resistance after all. You all know this job. Let's go.”

She was the first to stand up and approach the village and the others quickly followed.

***

The dark elves emerged from the morning mist like vengeful shadows that had sentenced this village for its sins. They were quick and silent, knocking down their victims and tying them up before they even got out a sound. A dozen of bodies were already bond together with a strong rope when a plump woman with hair the colour of straw warned her fellows with a high-pitched sharp scream.

It did help little the poor villagers, though. Some stumbled out of their houses, confused and sleepy, only making the work smoother for the attackers. Others tried to barricade themselves inside but were easily dragged out. A young woman with a small child in her arms was trying to run away but slipped on wet grass and landed right before the first officer. A sturdy human was trying to defend the entrance to his house with a long shovel while his wife and three children were cowering in bed but was sent to the ground when Kirvaleth struck him with a sword hilt. Soon after, the mercenary was dragging the woman outside while his trusted comrade carried a youngster on each arm. The last child, barely five years old, was trying to hold her mother's nightgown. She received no interest from the mercenaries and soon she stumbled and remained crying on the ground while her parents and siblings were being taken by the assaulting druchii. The corsairs were working as one body, backing each other as a body of many arms and one single mind, while Analya stood in the midst of it all, only occasionally lending her hand to aid but ceaselessly staring into the fog, searching for any dangers.

“Look out!” she shouted suddenly. “Defensive line! Fall back!”

Out of a large square building with a wooden mug painted on the sign, a group of young men rushed, with mad courage in their eyes, wildly shouting a warcry.

“Sigmar! Sigmar el Euser Heinrich!”

One bumpkin, armed with only a wooden stick, crashed into two corsairs at once and rained blows at them so quickly that they were forced to retreat. Another, with no weapon at all but disregarding every thought of caution, threw himself at Kirvaleth, dodged two blows of the long sword and gripped his wrists; then they remained still in a contest of strong muscles. Third of the mad humans assaulted Analya, did hardly notice when she broke his nose with an elbow strike and in return threw her forcefully to the ground; she was barely able to prepare for his next attack. Another attacker was swirling a chain with an insane speed, hit the first officer on the back of his head and then turned to face Searinox. The remaining corsairs hurried to help while other madmen were closing.

Among the humans a lightly built man ran, armed with an axe in each hand, right into the arms of Darven Kruz. The mercenary was easily able to dodge the first clumsy blow and position his long sword to block the other. But the stroke had far more brute force then one would expect from such a small human and the axe broke easily through the elf's defence. Soon its blunt side landed on his chest with such a power that the strong fighter collapsed to the ground. The human then turned around, seeking another victim. His seemed a bit unsure in his stance but projected an unshakable determination – and it was Dolan on whom his gaze was set next.

Initially, the villagers are easy prey. You can describe one or two and defeat them in any way you like.Then a group of madmen joins the fight. The druchii are shaken and scattered but most of them are clearly uninjured and reserves are readying to counterattack. Elves have an advantage in numbers at least two on one.Kruz and the first officer are lying on the ground, unable to fight. Analya is hard pressed but ready to act. Kirvaleth is wrestling one madman. Dolan will probably be attacked by the axe-wielder; Paithan is near and has no immediate foe.

Searinox, you are facing a madman swirling a chain. The human with wooden stick presses two corsairs on your left.Ladry, a strong man with a kitchen knife is running directly at you. One corsair, standing to your right, is prepared to intercept him. Another human, armed with a heavy tankard in each hand, is running on the left side of the aforementioned attacker; in a few moments he is going to meet a group of three corsairs.Caraoc, you are in no immediate danger. You have a good grasp about what is happening on the battlefield.

As the search party left the alchemists house, Analya motioned to commence with the attack. Soon, ten humans lay bound at the feet of the defensive line whilst the rest of the corsairs captured ever more slaves. When a mother and her three children where dragged from a house, noone paid heed to the youngest, a mere toddler. Ladry briefly mused ligthing her on fire in front of her family, but before she could fully appreciate the beauty of such an action, without warning, all hell broke lose. Humans burst from a building and rushed the elves, who were clearly lulled into a false sense of security, because before long a couple of elves were on the ground. Taking a brief moment to compose herself, she dug forth the familiar urgency. Idiotic corsair rabble! Human filth! BURN THEM ALL!!!! The figure of her former tutor suddenly filled her mind once more. Ladry noted with some satisfaction that it was becoming easier to control, now, as she projected this hated face onto a sturdy looking human who was rushing toward her. "Logi!" she roared at the approaching man, as she attempted to channel her hatred, and the weaving winds of magic, into a single focused burst of flame aimed at his chest.

The Astromancer kept meditating the visions he just had, while the raiding group swept havoc through the doomed village.Caraoc distractly took on the role of guarding prisoners, a simple task given their state of desperation.Rope was in sufficient provision to tie them all firmly, in the classic and efficient slaver's method: wrist attached behind, two humans attached together by the ankle. They could follow the raiding group, but escaping or revolting was no option, at least not within range of Caraoc's handbow.

-=-=-

Suddenly, a group of men charged from what seemed to be the local inn. The took the Elves by surprise and bested the first of them.Their speed seemed unnatural. Was it some kind of spell cast by the Alchemist? Or was it only the effect of the alcohol bound to be found in quantity in such establishment?The Astromancer tried to get a feeling of arcane winds disturbance, but his Aqshy colleague tapped in it and ruined his first effort.

Something had to be done, but he could not leave the slaves alone. The corsair pilot would rather keep them as last resort hostages rather than let them escape. Caraoc kept his guarding duties and resolved to act otherwise.

He seized his wicked horn, and took a deep breath."Hmmmpf! Tttooooooooooooooooooooot!!!..."The horn resonated and reverberated in the fog, which amplified the lugubrious pitch.

Even if the Elves were aware that Caraoc would blow once in case of alarm, it was the first time they heard the actual sound of the mighty instrument, which was carved in no less than a Verminlord's very horn. At least, they were professional enough not to show any emotion.The humans were all caught by surprise, but they were not subject to any particular effect and it merely distracted them for a few instants.

However, all living beasts in the village reacted with uncontrolled panic. The echoes of the horn blast had not quelled yet when a roaming cacophony of all kind of livestock erupted and deafened the whole village.Rats and mice fled away in all directions, barking dogs fluttered their chains, neighing horses kicked out their stalls and booing oxen and cows rammed the barn's walls and doors. Pigeons and poultry, sheeps and goats were only adding to the prevailing blare. The peasants were bound to be busy with their livestock as much as with the invaders.

Satisfied with the result, the pilot took back his handbow and threatened with a mad stare the poor prisoners. Any escape attempt would be punished by a bolt in the back.Then he concentrated again on a possible use of magic winds by the Humans, aiming at countering it in case it happened.

Toot. Will shoot at any prisoner trying to escape. Preparing to dispel in case.

Whilest the capturing of slaves went as planned, Searinox kept an eye out for any resistance, especially towards the church where he thought a few armored knights would storm out from or maybe even a warrior priest. Yet the retalliation from the humans came from a source he did not suspect. From the tavern he and Iscar hadn't inspected a group of humans charged with a drunk mans courage head first into the corsairs. 'By Loec's trickery! Why did we forget to look there!' With most of the corsairs suprised by this sudden attack they we're pressed had into defence. After making a quick scan of the situation Searinox noted that at the very least they outnumbered the humans, yet he did not have the time to make a clear judgement as soon one of the drunkards had smacked the first officer around the head with a chain and quickly turned his attention to Searinox. Quickly drawing his short sword he made a good effort to dodge all the incomming attacks. This was alot harder then one would have imagend as the drunk did not only swing the chain in a irregular pattern that was hard to read, the nature of the chain itself also made it that every time his blade made contact, it would change it's course and force Searinox into a different direction yet again.

After having evaded a few blows Searinox found and opening as human raised the chain for a broad sweep, in that instant Searinox noticed that to his left another human was forcing some corsairs back with a flurry of strikes. Deeming them in more need of help then him Searinox tried to dodge the incomming chain by ducking under it, and then find a way to incapacitate his opponent for a while so that he could support his allies.

Will try to dodge under the incomming chain, then roll over the human using his momentum to toss him to the ground.will then try to throw a knife into wooden stick human or at the very least distract him long enough for the corsairs to counter attack.will most likely have suffer some injury from the swinging chain.

Frost crunched under his leather boots as his uneven gait propelled him through the velvet dark before dawn. His joints were stiff, and bones ached. It had been three nights on the road since he left, or rather fled from his party. Three cold hard nights, and long days curled up in hollows among the trees. Nights and days that years of drifting along bitter paths of the north had prepared him for. Days and nights that despite the discomfort brought him a semblance of fond nostalgia.

He was close now, maybe an hour from the village maybe less. He tasted the salt air and knew that he flirted with dawn, that the wind had shifted from his right to his left as a thick morning fog rose from the sea and blanketed the shore and several miles inland.

He had hoped to have arrived during the night, to do his business and dissolve back into the aether of darkness, but it would have to wait a day, dawn was too close. What business? he thought as his hand unconsciously moved to his chest and felt the folds of the map tucked beneath his tunic. He shuddered involuntarily, maybe from the cold, maybe from the sense of déjà vu that flashed in his mind like the fire in a cooks pan, a small dread that he had been here before, had walked these paths and breathed these breaths. He shook it off Just a little farther tonight, a little farther.

A few minutes later, as Harkyl crested a small rise in the path, he could smell apple blossoms in the air, and as dark sentinels of the night see the trees of an orchard laid out before the silhouette of a small village, with a prominent church tower. I’ve come too far, too close he thought as he cursed under his breath and on aching joints began to turn away to seek shelter farther from the village. But he paused, as movement caught his eye, or rather the sense of movement caught his mind’s eye between the rows of the orchard. He waited and saw it again, unmistakably one, no two dark figures moving through the fog, amongst the trees and into the village.

His heart beat in his temples and he wracked his brain: it is likely thieves. But thieves typically seek items of value, and perhaps these two could save me some effort and risk. Harkyl smiled a little as he set off after the figures towards the village, a risky decision, but worth that risk he thought. Or maybe, just maybe it is a Druchii raiding force, sending a few shades in before the corsairs. HA! Wouldn’t that be the turn of events.

As he neared the village the sun was beginning to rise, it would burn off the fog soon he thought as a the sour taste of unnecessary risk wet his palette. But he had heard the first signs of battle, the screams of skewered humans, the cackles of dark elves, and he had decided that this was the course he must take. But how much of his tale should he share remained a question on his mind. He would tell them about the bald knights, there is no harm in that, and it could increase their trust in him, but would he tell them about the map? Could he tell them about the map? He decided to keep that secret close to his chest.

As Harkyl moved past the village perimeter, he heard the long blast of a horn like non he had ever heard. A shrill blast that called to some deep instinctual nature of fear. He shook his head to clear his mind and vision, and drew a dagger from within his tunic. I must gain their trust, and wetting my blade is likely the fastest way.

Harkyl moves into the village and fray searching for a target. He moves to attack (preferably in the back) the nearest human already engaged with a Druchii, but keeps his own safety in mind above all else, and is ready to dodge at the slightest hint of danger.

Searinox was desperately trying to dodge but the unpredictability of the chain and mad courage of his opponent soon caused him bruises. One swing hit his forearm and another lashed him over the ribs. Then, finally, the madman offered an opening . The corsair wasted no time, duck deeply and slammed with his shoulder right into his opponent; the power was sufficient to send the human to the ground. Searinox added a quick stab with his sword and turned to the left.

There, the two corsairs were still stepping backwards and the attack of the human with wooden stick was not losing on ferocity but the elves have already gained some breathing space. The noble in hiding quickly threw a knife and its blade sunk into the madman's back, just below the shoulder, and thus caused the craze to shout out and let his weapon go. The two corsairs did not waste a moment and showered their foe with swift and hard blows.

Then, however, Searinox felt a chain tightening around his ankle. Before he could react, his leg flew to the air and he was falling.

***

Dolan was trying his best to stay out of reach of the axes that had sent Kruz to the ground just a few moments before. His speed was no match for the human, though, and he was receiving blow after blow. He managed to block most of them with his shield and deflect some with the sword; just once, an axe hit his side but the edge slid on his armour; nevertheless, the heavy blunt strike he received was still enough to knock out his breath.

From the other side, Paithan saw an opportunity and neared the human with a long jump, aiming on his head with an overhead strike. The axe-wielder was proceeding forwards faster than the khainite expected, though, and the draich only hit with the tip of the blade, leaving a thin bloody mark. Paithan followed with another broad strike but then the human turned around to face him with a devastating blow of his own. The khainite dodged in the last moment but he lost balance and fell to his knees. From his attack, there was nothing remaining.

A few yards away, Dolan was given the time to recover from the last blow, though.

***

Analya was falling to the ground while a human was towering above her, with a blunt wooden stick ready to strike. The broken nose and bloodied face did not seem to hinder him in any way; he had apparently thrown away all thoughts of self-preservation and was concentrating on the offense only. Once she touched the ground she begun to roll; when the wood descended it hit the grass just a few inches besides her head. The noble girl got to her feet and changed direction quickly to avoid another blow. She did not dare to block the human's weapon or try to control him somehow; instead, she just circled around him and waited. Soon, having no skill besides his mad enthusiasm, he got unsure in his stance and Analya cut his forearm using his own momentum. This time, he shouted out and stalled a bit but he was still far from giving up.

***

Ladry collected her hatred and ignited it with the power of Aqshy. A cone of fire burst out of her hands and covered the nearing human in flames. Suddenly her surroundings were brightly illuminated: the corsair that wanted to help her and only barely avoided the fire; the madman with tankards who was now being surrounded by three elves and hit from all sides; the captured humans trembling with fear; and finally her attacker himself. His jacket begun to smoulder and he cried out in pain; yet he only hesitated for the briefest of moments and then ran further, face twisted with a mixture of agony and hatred.

***

Scouring the village, Harkyl noticed one of the attackers was looking at him – a tall shoeless chap with a horn in one hand and a crossbow in the other. If he was to prove himself he should do so now. Luckily, a wonderful opportunity was presented to him. A muscular human had grabbed a similarly strong elf by the wrists and was wrestling him – and at the same time he was presenting his back without caring about his surroundings. The hunchback weighted a knife in his hand and sent it with a careful throw right into the exposed kidney. The human grimaced in pain; then something cracked in his arm; and then he let his foe loose and fell to the ground, having been hit in the head by a sword hilt.

Then the raider raised his eyes and saw Harkyl for the first time. He inspected him for a moment, his face without any expression; then he looked around quickly, then back at Harkyl; and finally he left him standing where he was and ran to seek another fight.

The humans lost the advantage of surprise and elves are gaining the upper hand. Incaneth and Darven are still lying on the ground without motion. Paithan and Dolan are fighting the axe-wielder two on one and losing. Polibastious defeated his human with the help of Harkyl and is running to their aid. Analya injured her opponent slightly and seems doing well. The corsairs next to Ladry are giving a sound beating to the madman with tankards.

Caraoc, you detect no spells save the one Ladry is casting. The horn had some effect but smaller than expected. You see some hunchback you do not recognize; he noticed you and helped defeat one human. Ladry, your fire spell is working but it might not be enough. While the human is obviously badly hurt he seems to be determined to fight on as long as he has some muscles on his bones. You should have the time for one more spell though the human could reach you before the spell is ready if he is really lucky. Searinox, thanks to your help the two corsairs overwhelmed the stick-wielding human. The chain-wielding one is bleeding but does not give up and has managed to trap your leg with the chain. His grasp is not too tight, though, and the two corsairs you rescued could help soon. Harkyl, you hit the kidney of one human who was subsequently defeated by some tall elf. You are in no immediate danger. In your reach are both the axe-wielder and the chain-craze.

Only four humans are fighting: the one attacking Ladry, burning, wielding a kitchen knife; the one fighting Searinox, bleeding, using his chain as a noose; the one facing Analya, who has already suffered a cut but could still be dangerous; and the axe-wielder who is giving Dolan and Paithan a solid beating.

As Searinox was able to dodge the incoming chain he ducked under it and thrusted forward, planting his shoulder against the drunkards chest and worked him to the ground, swiftly stabbing the human with his short sword to make sure he didn't get back up. He then quickly stood back up pulling out one of his throwing knives, he turned around to face the two corsairs to his left and threw the small knife in the direction of the human that was assaulting them.

While it didn't outright kill the human as the blade sank into the flesh of the humans back who let out a small scream as he dropped his weapon. While the drinking had given them insane courage it luckily did not prevent them from feeling pain.In this opening the two corsairs found the space to start their counter attack, quickly making short work of the human now that his flurry of attacks was halted.

His attention was then caught by a different part of the square that was suddenly brightly illuminated by column of fire send out from Ladry's hands. That slight moment he was distracted he felt something tightening around he ankle, as he looked down he saw that the chain of the human he thought he had defeated had wrapped itself around his leg and before he could react to it he found himself falling towards the ground landing face first in the dirt. As Searinox tried to pick himself up he spit out some dirt and turned around to see the human still alive and ready to fight, even if it took all his might to do so. "Blasted human filth!" Searinox yelled as he tried to get his leg out from the chain and kick the human.

after aided his fellow corsairs Searinox now finds himself face first in the dirt with a much to persistent human and will try to kick the human in the face, unraffle the chain and kill the human

The scald noted with satisfaction that the horn blast did make some effect, although it had no incidence on the ongoing dogfight.With a quick glance, Caraoc judged how the fight was going on. Searinox was down, entangled in a chain. Having a clear path on Searinox's opponent was too good an opportunity to pass up. The pilot shot the chain-wielding human until he felt down and freed Searinox.Then, while keeping his guard duties, the shooty corsair scrutinized this hunchback stranger who just had come from nowhere.

Elves and humans still clashed steel around him, or in one case fire and another a chain. Nothing Harkyl felt inclined to bother with. I've wet my blade already this hour, and two kills shouldn't gain more trust than one - besides, the humans are out numbered, it should be over soon.

But more than the battle, something did intrigue him. A tall shoeless elf with a horn. It's time to get to work. Harkyl retrieved his knife and hobbled over towards the tall elf, but while he approached the elf turned away and engaged a brawny man with a chain.

Harkyl fixed a practiced smile on his handsome face, and waited to be approached. He watched the elves around him, trying to take a measure of them and their fighting style, and more importantly to learn something of their brashness, their fervor, and perhaps some deeper truths he could put to work later.

watches the battle, analyzing the other Druchii. Waits to be approached.

As Ladry channeled all her energy towards the approaching human, a searing blast of conjured flame spewed forth and engulfed the man. Satisfied, she lowers her arms and then watch with a certain degree of dismay as the human, his entire upper body ablaze. What is this cursed sorcery! she thought. Surely, human rabble had more sense than this? Was his life worth nothing to him? He seemed determined to complete his charge, and rather than trusting more fire to do the job, Ladry decided to just let her first spell do the job for her. As the human charged forward, she deftly drew her sword, preparing to sidestep the humans assault and, if given a chance, run the rabble through.

Ladry draws her sword and intends to utilize her dexterity to dash out of the way of the approaching human, and simply let the flames finish the job. She has not yet noticed the newcomer, focusing only on her immediate surroundings as long as she is under personal threat.

The sun was rising and even the fog was slowly disappearing. Now it was possible to see some more details: wrinkles on the faces of some humans, small bruises on the skin of others, structure of the wood all the houses were built from.

The noise around dropped a bit for the moment as there were only a few humans fighting but the corsairs were still carefully looking around to spot in time any other opposition that might have arisen. Now it was possible to hear the individual thuds of blunt strikes, heavy breath of some fighters, even a spoken word would probably carry to all humans and elves in vicinity.

Ladry waited for the right moment and stepped sideways. The charging man was unable to stop his momentum soon enough, overwhelmed with the flaming pain and unable to think clearly and only halted a few steps behind the mage. Then he stood still in confusion and the brief moment of inactivity was enough for the fire wizard to end his life with a stab in his back.

Searinox soon found out his opponent was really losing his strength quickly. The human failed to take advantage of the elf's fall; instead, the corsair was able to roll and place a well-aimed kick right on the craze's nose. The human not only loosened his chain but staggered a bit backwards as well.

This was a perfect opportunity Caraoc could not let go. He aimed without rush and soon Searinox's foe fell to the ground with two bolts in his chest. When he checked the battlefield again he saw that Analya was finally able to place a few more cuts on her opponent, making him collapse as well.

***

Meanwhile, the axeman continued his rampage. With a broad swing of his right hand weapon he threw Paithan's draich far aside. The elf was able to dodge the next blow but more were to come.

At this moment Dolan, having recovered at least a bit from the hit he received, let out a mighty roar and crashed into the human, shield first, sword pointing at lower back. This thrust threw the axeman off-balance and thus saved the khainite from another hard blow. The sword slid down on the human's back, though, and then the craze turned around and hit Dolan's head hard with the back of his hand; soon after he kicked Paithan in the chest. This time both elves fell to the ground and remained lying.

The axe-wielder halted for short moment and pain showed in his eyes as he noticed he was the last one fighting. This brief hesitation was used by Kirvaleth who managed to sneak to the human and hit his neck with a powerful upside-down swing of his long sword. The human's shirt turned red with blood but even this was not enough to stop him. He again turned around and readied himself for another set of heavy blows.

***

Aside from all fighting, Harkyl was observing the place. Things seemed to go well for the elves in general: the fire mage confused her opponent with a few nimble steps and stabbed him, the human with chain was kicked away by the lying corsair and then shot down by the one without shoes; third villager succumbed to superior speed and technique of some long-haired girl. The attackers were moving in good harmony, probably hardened by many raids. However, there was still one man in the middle of it all, the one with an axe in each hand. He was not a fighter, that was clear from his moves, but proved unnaturally strong; besides, the blows that hit him should have made more impact. Two elves were already defeated by him and a third one was to be assaulted.

All humans save one are on the ground. The axeman is going to assault Kirvaleth. The corsairs are tying up defeated drunkards (at least two of those are alive), guarding captives or proceeding to search more houses. They surely do not seem eager to confront the last fighting human.

Harkyl lets out a loud and clear laugh Ha! This one fights like Shadowblade!!

He remains where he is, content to watch the fight with the axeman from a safe distance... Besides if three elven warriors are having this much trouble with the human then why risk his own neck? Harkyl weighs his options: on the one hand, more banter could draw offense from those Druchii fighting, and enemies are not what he needs nor wants, then again, some well placed humor could endeer him with the crew... and the captain if he isn't among those tangling with the human; me makes a snap judgement and calls out: if you stop acting like trees, maybe he'll stop trying to chop at you!

Stays at a safe distance. Calls out with what he hopes are endeering jests.

The fight was nearly over, with one single Human remaining, surrounded by many Elves.Well, not so many, as the raiding party seemed to fall to fillips.The massive Dolan, the sword expert Paithan were both downed together with a single blow. They would have to endure their comrades' mockery when back on the ship.Kirvaleth did wound the man, but it was still not enough to stop the mad axeman, who turned his anger towards the mercenary.

As the day arrived, the fog begun to thin. That would take away one of the Elves's advantage. Better finish this combat quickly.There were enough fighters surrounding the axeman. All Caraoc could do was a little song to speed up the process.Conveniently, he knew "Attack Of The Mad Axeman", in which the solution was explicit: to wait for the daylight."Sneaking round the back streets - Don't stay out too lateCause he's got something he want's to give to youHe calls in his dreams, with his phantom screamsHide from the shadows in the nightOnly day will save you,Gotta watch the attack of the mad axeman..."

Ladrys gambit had worked out perfectly. A nimble sidestep and a quick spin, and the knife wielding peasant stumbled past her, panting and moaning from the anguish of the fire eating at his shirt and hair. At this point, his entire facial hair was gone; beard, eyelashes and brows, and the hair on his head. A sharp smell of burned flesh was beginning to spread from him as he stopped short a few steps behind where Ladry was standing just seconds ago. Not wanting to take more chances in a game of wits, Ladry simply shoved her sword right through his heart, and the man collapsed onto the ground, a puddle of blood quickly dousing the flames.

Satisfied with her work, Ladry now took the time to scan her surroundings, looking for the whereabouts of the others. Several corsairs where lying prone on the ground, though most human resistance was ended at this point. A single, large human was still standing, wielding an axe in either hand, bleeding profusely from the neck. However, next to him Paithan and Dolan where both down and it seemed as if Kirvaleth was next in line. Pathetic... Ladry thought, and gathered once more her rage. It is time to end this charade of a melee. Grim determination and a certain satisfaction was shining in her face as she reached out to the axeman, sensing the winds of magic already gathering around him - no doubt from Caraocs sorcery. It is due time everyone knows how it looks when a mans blood boils.

Ladry finishes off her initial adversary, then turns to the axe wielding human and attempts to cause his blood to boil, eager to kill him in the most agonising manner possible.

Searinox picked himself up from the ground and patted some of the bigger chunks of dirt of from his clothes. Then he heard a smart remark coming from the side of the square. "if you stop acting like trees, maybe he'll stop trying to chop at you!" He was already irritated enough that the human was able to floor him, so to then hear some elf that was idle sitting at the sideline of the battlefield sprout out a remark like this did not help.

Swish! Swish! The two axes were flying in the air at enormous speed. Despite this, Kirvaleth ducked, stepped to the side and dodged them all.

Further away, the scald begun to sing a fast-paced song that added even more drama to the ongoing fighting. Soon, a web of magic was binding the human, manipulating odds against him. Caraoc loosened his grip on the winds of magic and breathed deeply. The long march and his divination not so long ago cost him some strength, after all.

Only day will save you! Kirvallth stepped to the side, stepped to the back, stroke in the axeman's weapon and threw it away. The axes were dangerously close to his head more than once but he was never actually hit.

The corsairs halted where they were and just watched the fight. They could see the mercenary in a real battle for the first time and he was a pleasure to watch: strong but not fighting with brute force at all, relying on agility and technique instead, dodging, parrying and feinting, and his long limbs made his elegance even more noticeable. They observed him with something that could have almost been awe.

The fog was withdrawing and the elves could finally see their last opponent's face. He was pale like the moon, his veins were bulging in a bright red colour and eyes were glowing brightly as the ones of sick slaves. He was bleeding from several minor cuts already and the blood drying on his skin only added to his ghostly look.

Not far away, Ladry was once again reaching for the winds of magic. She easily gathered enough raw power to turn her wish in reality; soon she found out, however, how difficult it was to weave the spell correctly. To reach the blood circulating the veins, to not spoil her precious strength on muscles or air, to reach all the liquid instead of some small isolated spot. She soon found out her prowess did not suffice and all the magic left her grip in a harmless wave of heat.

After making sure her foe was not to stand up again, Analya looked over the battlefield. The toughest opposing fighter was still on his feet, battling only one adversary, while others were watching and arguing. She smiled for herself. “Well, some elves chatter and others act. It has always been so,” she said while measuring the strong human from head to toe. Then she set her blade to motion once again.

Swish! A quick dodge, a deft parry. The axeman seemed tireless. But now, the mercenary girl has come to Kirvaleth's help, cut the human's upper arm, his side, his shoulder. The bumpkin was still fighting but he was bleeding from so many wounds he was probably going to die if not tended to in a quick manner. The echo of Caraoc's song was still hanging in the air: the day will save you. And the day was already coming. Kirvaleth fights very well and managed to survive all the axeman's blows. Now Analya is helping him and together they inflicted him several more minor cuts. It seems the human should not last long.

Caraoc: Spell successfully cast. The axeman was unable to land a significant blow. It is hard to judge if it was the effect of your spell or if he was so good he did not need any help. Ladry: The spell you attempted was too difficult (see OOC thread). You only cast a wave of heat. Searinox @ Harkyl: Your conversation is undisturbed, though Analya added a biting remark.

Did the magic work? You never know with those things.At least, the prediction went true: the day was coming and the axeman was becoming less dangerous.Analya cheated the fight in favour of the mercenary. Nobody would bet anymore on the outcome.

-=-=-

No longer interested in the predictable end of the duel, Caraoc focused his mind on two more pressing matters.

First of all, as the fog was progressively lifting and the day providing some light, the Elven raid was becoming more visible to their victims. The pilot scrutinized around, trying to best guess from where the next arrow could come. The spire maybe? One guard was reported killed, but was there another one?

After he had verified no threat was incoming, and that the prisoners were idle, Caraoc turned his attention to the newcomer.Hunchy and limpy, wearing rogue's clothes, he would have been rather disgusting as an Elf if not for the handsome face, which called for a second chance.The hunchback's knife had cut some human flesh. That could tell him to be willing to buy an acceptance. However, his tongue seemed sharper than his blade. At least, he spoke Druhir with no accent, not even a lowborn tone. The pilot happened to be the closest to the stranger. He could no longer ignore him, especially not after staring at him."By Morai-Heg, who are you and what are you doing alone in a foreign land?"

The fight was winding to a close, two elves versus one human whose axe had slowed - his life would fade from his eyes with the morning fog from the land. It would be a beautiful morning. Harkyl's joints ached and his muscled stiffened in the few moments he had stood motionless. He turned his face to where the sun was boring through the mist and inhaled deeply. Perhapse some warmth would ease the pain in his joints today, and make life a little more sufferable. It would be a beautiful morning.

A sing-song voice broke his reprieve, "who are you and why are you here?". The mage harkyl thought and with a warm smile turned stifly and took in the shoeless elf. He had pale grey skin and hair, blue like a cold morning over the boiling sea. He is dressed like a ship mates and covered in gold hoops and rings, and to the best of Harkyl's estimation, begging to be relieved of the weight.

Harkyl smiled warmly, and called back in a smooth voice: Hail Conjurer, I am Harkyl sharp tongue and dull wit. I am called Harkyl the wanderer, for many miles and countless leagues I have limped. I am named Harkyl the fortunate for I bring good fortune to all I meet and in meeting your good fortune is well met. In some parts I am known as Harkyl the mighty, but in those parts I am not well known. On these shores I am known as Harkyl the seer, for I bring you warnings of dangers and tidings of great riches. Among you party I will be known as Harkyl the guide for I can lead you to the places you seek, and treasures you do not yet know you desire. Harkyl paused for a moment to let his words sink in, and then continued with a warmer broader smile, showing his straight white teeth, You ask why I am alone in a foriegn land? Well I am not alone with your company, and this land is not so foreign with all the men dead on druchii blades. But I was but both a few moments ago, and the tale of why is one worth telling and one I will be glad to share over a jug of water and some hot food.

Ignores the fighting elves' retorts and replies to the shoeless elf, introducing himself, implying that he could be of value, and saying he will share his story once he is given food and drink

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